Cubs Edge Phils 3-1 Schmidt Draws Cheers

July 02, 1985|by TED MEIXELL, The Morning Call

trotted to his position at first base wearing a long brown wig and dark sunglasses.

But, had he somehow contrived to smash a three-run home run with two outs and two on in the bottom of a high theater ninth inning to beat Lee Smith and the Cubs, he'd have made a whole stadium full of buddies - 23,091, to be exact.

Alas, what came to pass wasmore like a rerun of "Casey at the Bat." Yes, Mighty Schmitty struck out. And the Mudville Nine . . . er, Phillies . . . lost, 3-1.

Frankly, the whole thing came down to a conclusion that made one seem it had to be written in advance. The only hitch was, the uncooperative Mr. Smith, apparently figuring his 17th save was more important than going along with the program, ad libbed an unwanted ending.

By now, of course, Schmidt's two-month old negative remarks about Phillie fans to a Montreal reporter have been more than adequately chronicled. Frankly, they've been overkilled. The classic example of making mountains out of molehills.

Nevertheless, Schmidt knew darn well the crowd would herald his return from the Northland with something other than cordiality. So he used his "disguise" to try and defuse the situation.

The crowd's ugly mood was quickly confirmed, before Schmidt even left the dugout: when public address announcer Dan Baker called Schmidt's name while reading off the Phils' lineup, a loud chorus of Philadelphia's favorite noise greeted it.

One of Baker's 1985 innovations is to call out the Phils' names as they emerge from the dugout, position-by-position, and trot onto the field. What followed was comical: as Schmidt's name was called, the boos began once again. But as the crowd, almost as one, saw Schmidt's impromptu costume, the boos instantly turned to cheers. Incredibly, it swelled to almost a standing ovation.

"No, I didn't mind that at all," manager John Felske said. "That was before the game started; once the game started it was all business. Hey, I think Schmitty had to do something to take the pressure off. He knew the fans would be mad, he figured he had to do something, and I think it worked."

Indeed. While he wasn't cheeredwhen he struck out in the bottom of the first with Rick Schu at second base, he wasn't booed with much gusto, either. He was cheered lovingly when he singled in the third, when he lined sharply to center in the fifth and again when he singled to deep third to load the bases in the seventh.

And then came the high camp ninth inning. Thanks to a couple of unearned runs (Schu hit Billy Hatcher in the shoe with his throw to the plate in the first, and Schmidt's throwing error set up a sacrifice fly by Ryne Sandberg in the ninth) and Steve Lake's inartistic but successful suicide squeeze bunt in the sixth, the Cubs enjoyed a 3-1 lead. The fireballing Smith was on the mound.

But Von Hayes pinch hit a bloop single to center and, after pinch hitter Derrell Thomas and Juan Samuel both struck out, Big Lee walked Tim Corcoran (the third pinch hitter of the inning) on four pitches. With Schmidt crouched on deck, the whole scene seemed unreal, almost contrived.

As he strode to the plate, the crowd went nuts, cheering madly. When Smith jumped ahead in the count 0-2 with a couple of 95 mph fastballs, they picked up the chant, "Let's go Mike, let's go Mike, let's go Mike."

Smith threw a hard slider into the dirt, and Schmidt fouled off a high hard one. But the high drama ended on a low note when Schmidt swung mightily at an 84 mph slider - and missed.

Incredibly, the crowd booed. Very loud.

One of the quotes the Montreal writer attributed to Schmidt was that, although he in the past felt badly about the booing, "This year I couldn't care less."

He may have said it, but you can book this: he didn't mean it. One look at Schmidt slumped forlornly in front of his locker as the media trooped into Felske's office told that most eloquently.

Later, when the media vultures swooped over the carcass, the first question was, "How bad did you want to get a base hit?"

"Well," he said, "awfully bad. I knew I was gonna get to hit when I was the fifth batter (of the ninth inning). Something just told me things were gonna work out so that I'd get a chance to do something neat, you know, on a night like this.

"I got the chance, and all I can tell you is I got a couple good pitches to hit. But I just swung too hard at them, tried too hard. What else can I say?"

What else, indeed?

To be accurate, the game was not lost on Schmidt's final strikeout. There were, for instance, the two unearned runs that ruined an excellent seven- inning performance by loser John Denny (5-6). There was the squeeze bunt, of which Felske said, "Yeah, we thought of a pitchout. But we couldn't get Ozzie's (catcher Virgil's) attention in time."

And there were two other innings - the third and seventh - when the Phils had the opportunity to lay waste to Cub starter and winner Ray Fontenot (3-3).

In the third, Schu reached on Larry Bowa's error and Schmidt singled, with no out. But Glenn Wilson bounced to short, with both runners advancing, Virgil fanned and Garry Maddox grounded to third.

In the seventh, singles by pinch hitter Luis Aguayo, Schu and Schmidt loaded the bases with one out. But Wilson lashed a broken-bat, semi-line drive to Bowa, and Schu, who had unwisely broken with the crack of the bat, was doubled off.

"It's the same problem we've had all year," Felske said. "We didn't hit when we had the chances. We didn't play well defensively. And Ricky (Schu) made a mistake on that ball Glenn hit. He had nowhere to go. In that situation, he's got to make sure the ball goes into the outfield."

Forget all the Mighty Casey drama stuff. Felske's comments were the bottom line.